


Searching the Sun

by brokenbutstillstanding



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur finds out about merlins magic, M/M, Magic Reveal, Protective!Arthur, Scars, Worried!Arthur, arthur just comes to the wrong conclusion, merlin has body image issues because of his scars, no actual non-con, protective!Gwaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenbutstillstanding/pseuds/brokenbutstillstanding
Summary: It isn't a secret that Merlin doesn't like to undress around others, and it hasn't really concerned Arthur until now. But a mistake while swimming with the knights starts giving Arthur ideas, and he doesn't like them one bit.A scars/magic reveal in which Arthur comes to the wrong conclusions and both boys are extremely confused.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 416





	1. House of the Rising Sun

Arthur was aware of the fact that Merlin didn’t like undressing in front of others. While himself and the other knights would often take their shirts off during training, or remove their clothing to jump in a lake during quests in the middle of Summer, Merlin seemed to wear his jacket and neckerchief no matter how warm it was. Sometimes one of the others would try to coax him into removing a layer or two simply to prevent overheating, but he always politely declined with the excuse of his exceptionally pale skin burning easily.

Arthur knew that wasn’t all there was to it, but he decided to accept the answer anyway. He chalked it up to Merlin just being too self-conscious. He didn’t exactly blame him, despite his ability to keep up with the band of knights he was still the scrawniest of the bunch. So he didn’t push, even if it did get a little irritating sometimes.

Like when the August nights would be muggy and hot and Arthur told Merlin to at least take his shirt off while they slept and he declined only to wake up sweat-soaked and miserable. Arthur wasn’t too noble to say I-told-you-so and so he did quite often.

Or when he’d tripped and fallen into a rather large puddle in the middle of Winter on their way back to Camelot and Arthur instructed him to take the wet clothing off to avoid getting sick. Merlin refused and so Arthur, in turn, refused to give him any sick leave when he came down with a nasty cold soon after.

Even if Arthur thought it was a bit ridiculous that Merlin was so self-conscious that he wouldn’t even remove his clothing when it served him well, he didn’t push him. It was annoying, yes, but there was nothing really alarming about it.

Until now.

It had started on a quest, Arthur accompanied by the knights of the round table as they traveled. It was another hot day, the sun beating down on them so hard Arthur was sure he’d cook in his metal armor before they reached their destination. Elyan was the one who spotted the lake, Percival giving a loud whoop at Arthur’s nod of permission. With that his knights were running like children, dropping clothing as they went until they could dive into the cool water. Arthur went a bit slower, he had to keep some decorum, after all, he was the King. But in truth, he was just as excited for the relief.

He glanced back at Merlin who was tying up the horses. He could see his man-servant was feeling the effects of the sun too. Sweat poured down his face which had turned a rather unhealthy shade of red as he blinked the salty liquid out of his eyes.

“You joining us, Merlin?” Lancelot called, clearly noticing his state as well.

“Nah, I’ll just wait with the horses,” Merlin replied just as Arthur thought he would.

He and Lancelot shared a frown. Merlin had been keeping pace with them all day and he needed to cool down before he was found expelling what water he’d retained in the bushes from heat exposure. 

“Come on, Merls. We don’t bite.” Gwaine laughed, sloshing out of the lake in all his glory as he made his way towards his friend. 

Merlin backed up a little hesitantly.

“It's fine, Gwaine. I’m really not that warm.” He laughed nervously as the man didn’t slow his approach. 

“Yeah right-“ Gwaine reached out teasingly and tried pulling Merlin’s jacket and neckerchief off to shove him towards the pleasant water. He didn’t get very far, the jacket only halfway down his arms when Merlin started yelling.

“No!” He batted Gwaine’s shocked hands away, pulling his jacket back on and holding it closed like the other was going to try to take it from him again. He moved until his back hit the large tree trunk behind him, eyes darting back and forth between Gwaine, Arthur, and the rest of the knights with stark fear in them.

Gwaine held his hands up in surrender, a bothered frown on his face. 

“Don’t. You can’t…” Merlin said again, a little calmer this time although his chest was moving more rapidly than usual as he breathed, eyes still wary.

“I’m sorry. I won’t. I’m sorry, Merlin.” Gwaine apologized, more seriously than Arthur had ever heard him.

Everyone was staring at Merlin now, a fact that the hunched-over man seemed to realize as his already red face flushed impossibly deeper. Arthur finally broke out of his stupor and turned back to his men with the harshness of a commander in his voice.

“We aren’t stopping for long so cool off in the lake quickly.”

Gwaine and the others seemed to understand what Arthur was doing and immediately turned back, joking around and amusing themselves although there was a heavy cloud that seemed to hang over them.

Arthur for his part accepted that he wouldn’t get to cool off like the rest of them. Not when something unsettling was stirring in his gut. He’d seen this sort of thing before, and he didn’t have enough information to reach a conclusion yet but what he had seen was giving him a few ideas that horrified him.

He’d been to villages in Camelot that resided outside the safety of the walls when they were having trouble with bandits. He’d seen women and men alike who had been abused in many different ways by the vagabonds. It was usually the women but sometimes it was young boys or men who were exceptionally pretty. He'd had to take many of them back with him to the castle for Gaius to see to, their injuries to great for their village physician who often had very little to no training. He’d ridden with them for the few days it took them to get back and he’d seen how they reacted.

But even more damning than that was the case of Athelstan, a man that had since retired but had been one of Arthur’s tutors as a child. He was an educated man, but he had undergone some truly horrific things during his time in school when he had been a teenager. Arthur quickly learned not to play pranks on him, to sneak up on him, or tug on his clothes to get his attention. Most of the time he was fine, acted completely normal, but some of the time he would react- well, react quite as Merlin had. Sometimes worse depending on the prank. His quarters used to be near to Arthurs for convenience's sake, but they had to be moved after he would be woken at least once a month by screaming coming from his direction. He knew now they were night terrors, but as a boy, he hadn’t understood the gravity the way he does now.

Arthur’s mind whirred as he examined every memory he had with Merlin for context. The more he thought about it the more he had to remind himself that he didn’t know anything for certain yet so he didn’t lash out in indignant anger at a crime that may not even have been committed against his servant. 

Merlin didn’t sleep well, he knew that by the dark bags that often made their home under his eyes. He was at the tavern almost more often than he was serving Arthur, what he thought was just an overindulgence in mead started to look more and more like a good way to forget. God knows Arthur had used that method more than once after his Father’s death.

He’d have to find out more when they returned home, but he was going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.

He finally approached his servant who was still sitting by the tree, hands grasping his jacket. He made sure to move slowly, projecting his movements clearly before he made them just as he would with the men and women he’d assisted in those villages. Merlin just looked at him a bit oddly, hands relaxing a little bit.

“Are you alright?” He asked, trying not to look like he was eyeing Merlin as much as he was, searching in a new light.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, don’t know what came over me” Merlin shrugged with a clearly strained smile, trying to divert Arthur’s attention. He was usually much better at it than that. 

“I should get the horses ready to go.” He stood at last and made a move to return to the horses, but Arthur stopped him with a light hand on his shoulder as he passed.

“You are safe here. You have my word.” He swore seriously, it was important to him that Merlin know that for some reason.

Merlin just gave him another odd look and nodded as he continued on his path.

And so with that Arthur turned around and began yelling not very serious orders at his knights, revealing in their groaning and complaining as they were forced to leave the cool haven of the lake and get back to work.


	2. Several Miles From the Sun

Gwaine had apologized at least ten more times during the rest of the trip, each time Merlin brushing him off with a slight tint of red to his ears that had nothing to do with the heat. Eventually, his friend seems to realize it was serving little more than to embarrass him for his outburst than anything else and ceased his groveling.

That didn’t stop him from approaching Arthur one night as they made camp, Merlin out collecting firewood.

“Hey, I’ve got a bad feeling about Merlin. About his reaction.” Gwaine said lowly, his words only meant for the pair of them.

Arthur was aware that Gwaine wasn’t raised in the best of environments. It was natural that he would be quicker to identify the signs of mistreatment quicker than the others.

Arthur nodded his agreement.

“I’m aware. I’ve a mind to investigate once we return home. Have you noticed anything off with him lately?”

Gwaine scoffed.

“You spend more time with him than I do, Princess.”

Was that some resentment he saw in his eyes? Jealousy perhaps? He didn’t bother to discern which of the two it was, the meaning was clear.

“Just- look out for him, alright? Let me know if you discover anything” Arthur implored.

Another scoff, this time with a slight grin and a clap on the shoulder.

“I always do.”

And didn’t Arthur know it. He knew that Merlin was the only reason Gwaine was here, something that bothered him more than he’d like to admit- and not because he thought Gwaine disloyal. 

He didn’t know if the other knights had come to the same conclusion that the pair of them had, although he noticed Lancelot frowning more in Merlin’s direction.

When they returned to Camelot, Arthur set out on his quest to find out what caused Merlin to be so set on remaining clothed. With each discovery the stone in his stomach sunk further and further, the clues adding up to a conclusion he didn’t want to accept.

He had started with Gaius.

“Has Merlin been injured lately? In any way?” He demanded after he’d sent Merlin off to polish his armor.

Gaius frowned, “you know very well Sire that I keep my patient's ailments in confidence.”

That told Arthur everything he needed to know. Still, he didn’t want to make a leap quite yet so he began asking around the castle. His questions were vague but pointed, asking if anyone had noticed anything off with Merlin as of late. Searching to see if Merlin had taken a tumble with any of the other servants or villagers in all the years he had been here. They all denied the first question but he got some interesting results for the second one.

Apparently, Merlin had known pleasure with a few of the servants, both male, and female, but he never undressed and only seemed to focus his attention on his partner. It was more than Arthur particularly wanted to know, something ugly curling in his gut that he didn’t want to discern as he listened to them describe Merlin’s conquests, but the dread sank lower still.

He began to pay more attention to Merlin’s sleeping habits on the small journey the two of them made together shortly after the lake incident. He laid awake, listening to Merlin toss and turn until he finally found rest. It didn’t last long. He didn’t scream as Athelstan had, but he jolted up with a gasp and placed his head on his knees as he fought to catch his breath from whatever terror haunted his dreams.

When Lancelot stopped frowning with worry in Merlin’s direction he pulled him aside after training and asked what he knew.

“With respect, Sire, I cannot betray Merlin’s trust. It is not mine to tell.”

Anger spiked within him born of desperation and fear.

“I order you to tell me. Or have you forgotten who your King is?”

Lancelot just gave him a pitying smile.

“Throw me in the stocks if you must, but I’d rather that than risk never earning Merlin’s forgiveness.”

Arthur couldn't help the contempt after that. Resentment that Merlin had told Lancelot and not him. Did Merlin not trust him? He didn’t even notice he’d started ignoring his servant in his frustration until Merlin brought it up in his typical fashion.

“Have I done something to make you act like more of a prat than usual?”

Arthur scowled.

“You can’t speak to me like that, I’m the-“

“King. Yeah, yeah.” Merlin rolled his eyes.

Arthur tried to push down the temper that was rising at a boil within him but he couldn’t stop the sharp command from leaving his lips.

“Did someone hurt you?”

The silence in the room was deafening. It seemed to go on for hours although Arthur knew it had likely only been seconds. Merlin vehemently shook his head and denied it, but Arthur had seen the way he paled. Seen the panicked look in his eyes that told him all he needed to know.

“Who?” He bit out through his grinding teeth.

Whoever had hurt his servant, whoever had done this, would pay dearly. His Father would look like a saint compared to what he would do to them. He was so lost in his bloodthirsty thoughts, in the red haze that had clouded his vision, that he almost missed Merlin’s response.

“No one.”

The temper boiled over completely.

“Don’t lie to me, Merlin! I order you as your King to tell me! I need to know if a crime has been committed! I swear to both the old gods and the new I will have them burned when I find out!” He yelled, stalking towards Merlin.

His friend’s eyes widened, and was that a hint of fear he saw? Panic maybe? Either way, it cooled his anger, regret quickly flooding in to put out the fire. Merlin had never looked at him that way before and he hated it.

Finally, Merlin seemed to gain his footing and the scowl that crossed his face could rival Gaius’s.

“You can’t burn those who are already dead.”

Arthur felt as though he’d been slapped and Merlin turned on his heel and strode out of the room despite Arthur not dismissing him.

He wanted nothing more than to go apologize. He didn’t do it often, having inherited his Father’s stubbornness if nothing else, but he was willing to make an exception. He shouldn’t have yelled. Not when he knew Merlin would panic. But he’d give Merlin some space before he did.

As much as he needed.


	3. Don't Forget the Sun

How much space was too much space? It had been a month- maybe a little more- since the altercation in Arthur’s chambers and Merlin still avoided him like the plague. He would come in to serve his meals and fill his bath but he would take his leave soon after instead of staying to talk and tease him like usual. He still had a hesitant sort of panic in his eyes when he looked at him, almost like he was expecting Arthur to ask again at any moment. He wouldn’t. He could only hope one day Merlin would come to him with the information. It was a purely selfish need to know, Merlin has said the perpetrator was dead after all, but the desperation to know was buried deep within him.

The ugly feeling in his gut grew stronger as he saw Merlin spend more of his time with Gwaine and Lancelot until Arthur finally put a name to it. He was jealous. Jealous and afraid. Afraid that someone would take Merlin from his side, afraid that he would love another.

Arthur didn’t know if he would call it love, but he didn’t know any other word to describe what he felt for Merlin. What he had felt for a long time now.

Merlin was like the Sun. Bright, warm, unattainable, almost like Arthur would burn if he got too close. And he wanted to get close to those flames, he wanted to burn.

It was for that reason he lost himself for only a moment as Merlin poured his wine at dinner. He had only made a quip, but Arthur was so overwhelmed with the relief he felt at that familiar sarcasm aimed in his direction that he pulled Merlin down by the neckerchief and plastered his lips onto his without thinking, only feeling the warmth from the sun he thought he’d lost.

Merlin let out a noise of surprise before he tentatively returned the kiss, much to Arthur’s delight. But almost as soon as he had he began pushing on Arthurs chest, gasping as the two separated and the gravity of what just happened hit him.

“I-I’m sorry, Arthur. I can’t-“ Merlin stuttered, struggling to collect himself.

The stone in Arthur’s stomach hit rock bottom and he realized in horror what he’d done. He’d just kissed Merlin. His best friend. The man he might be in love with. A man who had gone through something truly horrible. And he’d kissed him unexpectedly.

His only consolation was that Merlin wasn’t bolting out of the room as he had expected him to, only standing there with his arms wrapped around his torso protectively as he took a deep breath.

“I can’t- not without telling you- I’ve been keeping something from you” He continued and Arthur broke out of his stupor.

“Its alright, Merlin. I know.” He tried to sound calm although his voice shook a little, possibly with shock at what had just happened, possibly with anger at what he knew had befallen the one most precious to him.

“You know?” Merlin looked shocked and seemed to pale a little bit which constantly surprised Arthur whenever he did it, it didn’t seem possible that he could get paler.

“I’m sorry, Merlin. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I know what you’ve been through and I swear to you on my Kingdom and on my life that I would never force you into anything you didn’t want.” Arthur was desperate to make him understand. Please, please don’t leave me, he thought.

Merlin’s shock only grew, joined by a hint of confusion.

“Wait,” he said, “what do you think you know?”

It was Arthur’s turn to be confused.

“It's alright. I don’t think less of you for it if that is what you are worried about. Whatever happened it wasn’t your fault, and I can do nothing more than promise you that whoever lays a hand on you shall pay with their life.” He swore.

Merlin just looked more confused.

“Hold on- do you think I was…” He seemed to have trouble getting the word out so Arthur did it for him as gently as he could.

“Assaulted. I know, Merlin. I’ve known for a while now.”

Merlin’s face went completely blank and Arthur was prepared to beg his forgiveness again when Merlin spoke up with more vigor than he’d heard in a while.

“No- Gods no- why would you…no, Arthur. I haven’t been.” He looked so serious, so earnest like he believed it. Like he was telling the truth.

Now it was Arthur’s turn to be confused.

“But at the lake, you panicked when Gwaine tried to take your clothes off, and I know you don’t let your romantic partners touch you, and Gaius and Lancelot refused to tell me-“ he rambled.

“You were investigating me behind my back? Why would- never-mind. That isn’t what I’ve been keeping from you.” Merlin responded.

A whoosh of air that Arthur didn’t even know he’d been holding left his lungs, his body going boneless as he slumped over in such complete and utter relief he didn’t think he’d felt anything like it before. But the relief was short-lived.

“Then what?” He asked.

“Something worse.” Merlin shifted uncomfortably with his eyes darting towards the door and window, the exits, Arthur realized, before turning back to him.

Suddenly Arthur sat ramrod straight with tension again.

“It couldn’t possibly be.” It was true, he couldn’t think of something worse than that.

Merlin closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath as if preparing himself for a blow.

“I have magic.”

Dead quiet filled the room again, Arthur absorbing what he’d just said. Magic. Merlin had magic. Impossible.

“No. You don’t.” Arthur said slowly.

Merlin looked miserable as he raised his hand and uttered a word in a language Arthur didn’t know, his eyes flashing as golden as the sun and a flame flying into his palm from the fireplace and morphing itself into a magnificent dragon that flapped about gracefully.

Arthur felt numb. 

“How long?”

“Since I was a baby. My Mother says I levitated my crib off the ground just hours after I was born.”

Silence again. Merlin had magic. He had magic. He’d kept it from him.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Arthur demanded, though it came out weakly and devoid of any tone.

“At first it was because of your Father. I didn’t want to die.” He explained.

“And you truly thought I’d turn you in? See you burn?” Because as angry as he was right now, as shocked, he knew he couldn’t see his only true friend burn. Not ever. No matter what lies he’d told.

“No” he corrected, “but I didn’t want you to have to choose between me and your Father. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“My Father is dead now. He has been for months.”

“I know. I should have told you but I was afraid.” Merlin looked ashamed as he answered, avoiding Arthur’s eyes as he admitted it.

“Of me?” His voice sounded hollow even to his own ears.

“Of what you’d do. I said I’d serve you until the day I died and I meant it. I still would. But I don’t think I could bear it if you sent me away.” Merlin had tears in his eyes now, hands that had held that brilliant flame shaking slightly as if he expected Arthur to do just that.

Things made so much more sense now. The convenient falling branches as someone got too close. The miraculous solutions to seemingly endless problems. God, Merlin had even admitted in front of his Father that he was a sorcerer, that idiot!

“I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you. I couldn’t let you kiss me without knowing who I am. What I am.” Merlin pled from the spot he was rooted.

And Arthur believed him despite everything that just happened. Still, things didn’t add up.

“Why the fear surrounding the clothing then? How is that possibly connected to your magic?” Did Merlin have a Druid mark? Is that why he didn’t want anyone to see?

Merlin looked uncomfortable again but cleared his throat and spoke anyway.

“I don’t go to the tavern. Ever.”

Arthur had gathered that by now.

“Do you even realize how many people try to kill you on a daily basis? How many people I’ve had to stop?” Merlin looked him in the eyes for the first time since the conversation started.

No, Arthur supposed he didn’t. Only that it must have been far more than he’d ever known.

“I just- I didn’t want you to ask questions.” Merlin continued.

“About what?” Arthur was still perplexed.

Instead of answering Merlin took another deep breath and without ceremony discarded his neckerchief, shrugged off his jacket, and pulled his tunic over his head.

Arthur would have gasped if his breath hadn’t been stolen from him.

Merlin’s torso was just as pale as the rest of them, but it was so scarred that there was more raised and puckered skin than there was smooth unblemished skin. There were scars on top of scars, areas where he couldn't tell where one scar ended and the next began, and in the center of it all like a medallion was a ghastly looking circular burn scar.

Any anger, any pain, any feeling Arthur had about Merlin’s magic was immediately shoved to the side as his brain worked at full power to try to make sense of what he was seeing.

He must have been quiet for too long because Merlin shifted uncomfortably, arms moving to cross tightly over his chest as if that would hide the absolute battlefield that was his skin.

“I know. Ugly right?” He said in what Arthur suspected was meant to be a teasing tone, though the wobbly smile and tension in his voice gave him away as he avoided eye contact.

It made sense now. All of it. The final tumbler in the lock clicked and Arthur understood. He understood why Merlin was so cautious with his lovers, why he had blanched when Arthur asked who had hurt him, his reaction when he’d mentioned burning whoever had done it to him.

If Arthur hadn’t already been sitting he would have collapsed in shock. He knew he should say something. It had been quite some time since Merlin had removed his clothing and the vulnerable look in his eyes only grew by the second, but all Arthur could focus on was the scars and how much pain Merlin must have been in.

Arthur had his fair share of scars, but none like this. He stood ever so slowly, taking small steps towards the man in front of him, and raised one shaking hand to touch the mark in the center of his chest. Merlin flinched before he could make contact and Arthur snatched his hand away as if he’d touched a hot flame.

There was a deep breath from Merlin and the sorcerer hesitantly took a nervously sweaty palm and guided Arthur’s hand to the scar. He didn’t want to push his luck so he was light and clinical with his touches, running the pads of his fingers over the rough skin that had once bubbled up. Moving to the large scar that ran from his shoulder down almost to his navel. Scar by scar he cataloged Merlin’s body, moving around him as if in a trance to look at his back.

By every God in existence, the back was almost worse. He felt numb as he touched the huge puncture mark on the back of his neck that looked as though it should have killed him, the various burns and scars marking up every inch of his shoulder blades and spine. Many of them looked deliberate and careful. He didn’t miss how Merlin’s shoulders hunched forward as he explored, shaking a little as he bowed his head. He couldn’t tell if it was fear or shame but either way he pulled away and gently turned Merlin back around to face him.

“How- who?” Arthur finally spoke, his voice unrecognizable and strangled as he asked.

Merlin was stubbornly fighting back tears and his voice sounded off as he responded with another deep breath.

“I don’t remember them all.”

That didn’t make Arthur feel any better.

“The ones you do remember, then.” He tried to reason. He had to know.

So Merlin told him. He told him everything. About their first meeting, about Valiant and the snakes, about Lancelot, the troll, the dragon, Nimueh, the Isle of the Blessed, everything.

By the end Arthur was speechless. There had been so much he hadn't known. Some part of him deep down resented Merlin for keeping it from him, that was a conversation they would have to have at a later date because right now he wanted to do something selfish. He didn’t know how it would be received, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself as he lunged forward and pulled Merlin into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around the other man. They were about the same height and after a moment's hesitation he felt Merlin’s arms come up around his shoulders, fingers clutching the fabric of his tunic like a lifeline and head lowering to bury in his shoulder. He could feel him shaking with sobs, his frantic breaths puffing against his neck as he held him so tightly he was starting to worry about bruising. But Arthur couldn’t bring himself to care as he reflected on everything Merlin had just told him.

He shouldn’t be alive. Neither should Merlin if he were being perfectly honest. He’d put himself in the line of fire over and over for him and he hadn’t even known. What if he hadn’t come back one day? What if when he’d said goodbye to him after the Questing Beast it was the last time he’d seen him? Would Arthur have even known? Would he have ever found his body?

He must have squeezed a little too desperately because Merlin raised his head a bit.

“Arthur?” He sounded a little winded.

“Sorry, sorry.” Arthur apologized, letting him go.

“You aren’t angry?” Merlin looked cautiously at him.

“I’m furious” Arthur replied as Merlin’s face fell, “you are not allowed to die for me, Merlin. Don’t you ever die for me. Promise me.”

Merlin let out a laugh of what could have been relief.

“I can’t do that, Arthur.”

Arthur sent him the most pleading look he could muster, but Merlin just gave him a rueful smile.

“I hate them. I hate seeing them when I dress or bathe. I hate others seeing them. They’re hideous.” Merlin was clearly trying to sound less self-conscious than he was as he crossed his arms again.

Arthur grabbed his hand and raised it to his lips, finding the scar that began on his left forearm and pressing them gently to it. Then he moved to the one on his shoulder and breathed,

“No. They aren’t.”

After a gentle kiss there he moved to look at Merlin again only to see more tears swimming in his eyes.

“You still want me, even after all this?” He looked hopeful but skeptical.

Arthur scoffed.

“Yes, you clotpole.” He said with the haughtiness he knew Merlin loved to hate.

“That's my word, cabbage-head.” He gave a watery laugh.

Arthur may have been the one to place his hands on Merlin’s cheeks to guide his head in, but Merlin was the one who pulled him close and attacked his lips with the same vigor he possessed when taking the piss out of Arthur on a daily basis.

Arthur responded just as passionately, wanting more than anything to kiss every single scar on Merlin’s body. That gave him an idea.

“You’ve got your scars. Wanna see mine?”

Merlin just smiled as they hurried over to Arthur’s bed, giggling like a pair of teenagers.


End file.
